In Vervain Veritas, In Aqua Sanitas
by TethysTempest
Summary: A young queer woman, thrust into the dangerous world of Mystic Falls, simply seeks to survive. Will she be able to escape the pitfalls of so many young self-inserts? Can she navigate her fate without becoming a Mary Sue? Only time will tell.
1. Chapter 1

Hello all! This is my first self-insert story, and I'm trying to create something realistic and interesting. I love constructive criticism so feel free to review! Mostly, this is a creative exercise for myself. Oh, and since this is a SI, the main character is going to be gay, but I don't anticipate any ships.

Chapter 1

 **The Awakening**

A small green car is packed with her entire life inside, trudging down the interstate. The woman at the wheel has been exhaustedly driving for the last 9 hours, but she's so close! Taking the exit ramp, she's hurriedly taking the curves at twice the speed. Headlights come fast from around the next curve, and she has a split second to try braking. Pain, only pain. Then, nothing.

Eyes closed, I shiver. I've had such a terrible dream. I was travelling to California when a car took the wrong way on the highway ramp. It's still dark, so I turn over to snuggle and forget. The sheets though, they smell wrong. Shoving the pillow further under my head, the shock reaches me. This isn't my oddly shaped memory foam pillow, and this certainly isn't my bed. Scared that I may be waking up next to a weird one night stand at a truck stop after blacking out, I open my eyes slowly.

I'm alone in the bed. Thank god. It's actually quite a cute room. Moonlight shines in from a bay window over a window seat. Cream walls with white wooden trim tell me that I'm probably in a craftsman style home, where bedrooms are on the second floor. I've got a desk too my left, and 3 doors to my right. I get the feeling I've been here, but can't place it. Slipping out of bed quietly, I panic, noticing that I've been dressed by someone else in another's clothes. Or did I really drink so much that I put myself here and forgot? It's never happened before. What if I've been drugged and am in some creepy rapist's house? Walking slowly to be quiet, I cross into the moonlight strewn across the floor. Jumping, I try not to cry out. These aren't my feet, or my arms, and what's this? Long hair!

I sink to the floor, inspecting this body through touch and the little light. There's probably a light switch, but I don't want my captors to know I'm awake. I run my hands carefully over my limbs. This body has small feet, thin but defined calves, and strange thin hips. I have a little girl body. My arms are like those of a bird, with minimal muscle. The width across my shoulders and clavicle is too short. This torso is so compact, with tiny breasts and a flat tummy. Have I been starved and put under multiple surgeries? No, surely I would have been awake at some point over the months that would take. Though, it would explain the long hair. I weave the hair through my fingers, it's soft and falls well past these shoulders. Holding it up, I see that it's dark. Patting my face, I have no sense of familiarity with it.

I must be dreaming. I turn my head into my upper arm and bite down as hard as possible. Tears well in my eyes, and I must admit that the pain and flesh feel very real. I may be in the middle of some freaky body switch crisis, but I can't even begin to deal with that until I'm safe. Creeping back over to the desk, I look for a weapon. Nothing heavy or sharp, until I find a pair of scissors in the drawer. They'll do for now.

3 doors. Okay think, Beck, think. Obviously, the way out isn't the middle, because that would be two ajoined rooms on either side of a hall and those doors would be out there in the hall anyway. So… one of the outer doors. I creep to the floor, head to the ground to look under door 1. I can't see or hear anything. Crawling to 3, I put my head down at the door crack. The air underneath is a little cooler, with a faint drip sound, probably the bathroom then. Holding my scissors surely, I approach the farthest door on my left again. The old knob and hinges might be squeaky, so I carefully turn it and push it outward. Squeeek. It's tiny, but I freeze like a rabbit, wide eyed and twitchy. No sounds, so I move on.

I'm presented with a dark hallway, with carpet under my feet, and very faint glows coming from under 2 more doors on my right. Slowly, I near the staircase and descend. The bannister is real wood, polished and lovely. It seems like a well-kept turn of the century family home, which almost makes me feel better. I've got a tiny living room and an entrance hall. There have got to be more rooms behind me that the bedrooms sit over, but I'm on a mission so off to the kitchen it is. Knives, where are they? My eyes have become used to this dusk light, so I spot the knife block quickly. They're all stainless steel, and these counters are quartz if I'm not mistaken. This family must have a little money then, to have such an old house with nice renovations. I grab the small paring knife that can be easily concealed, and begin to hunt the rest of the house.

I find an office, a larger family room with cushier furniture, and the door to the basement where I find laundry and storage. How did I end up in this perfectly average family home? I've peeked out the windows to see that I'm in some suburban or small town street, with one car in the driveway. For several minutes, I debate stealing it, but I have no idea where I am or how I got here or who's face I'm wearing. Clutching my paring knife, I make my way back upstairs to find out if I'm home alone. If I am, I'm ransacking this place for keys and money to get the hell out of here.

First door. I slowly open it a crack, knowing about the creaking tendency of my own door. It's a bedroom much larger than mine, with a queen-sized bed framed by two windows on either side, and floral prints everywhere. A red-haired woman is asleep in the bed, by the size of the blanket lump, I judge that she's small and I could take her in a fight. Or at least, I could in my own body. Nervous, I close that door and move onto the next. In this one, the first thing I spot is the mess. The floor is lumpy with piles of clothes, and every surface is covered in cans, dishes, and other crap. It smells faintly of weed, and I can tell that someone is in the bed. Judging by the room and the skater shoes next to the door, I guess that the occupant is a teenage boy. I worry that he might be an older male that got into drugs and never matured, but either way I tally him as a potential threat. Worse, what if the redhead has a husband that isn't here right now?

I flee back into the relative safety of "my room." It's dawn and the sky outside is filled with the early purple, pink and orange of sunrise. With more light, I notice that I've got a mirror in the corner by the dresser. Eager to see what I look like, I rush toward it. Nina Dobrev. Nina Dobrev is standing in front of me. I pinch my face, and she does too. Oh god, this is the most real dream I've ever had. Then I look around, take in my appearance, and realize that I'm not Nina, I'm Elena Gilbert. I knew things looked familiar around here! The redhead must be Jenna, and the teen boy is obviously Jeremy. I just can't understand how my subconscious could create and explore such a detailed place. I usually have dreams where I'm in one place that gradually warps into the next destination. Oh well, I lay down on the cozy bed and wait to wake up, keeping my knife at my paranoid side.

~~~~~~~~ **(content warning for an act of self-harm in first paragraph)** ~~~~~~~~~~

I never woke up. Laying there, I mentally re-traced my steps. The journey. The headlights. The pain, and the release. I must be dead, or in a very heavy medical coma. If I am dead, I guess my soul accidentally got lost into one of the many infinite universes. If I'm in a coma, they must have me on some good shit to be mentally engaging so vividly. When the sun was half peaked over the tops of the houses across the street, I found out that I do bleed. I'd taken my paring knife and slashed across one of my calves. It hurt like hell so realistically, that I know I'm fully embodied in this form right now. Not a coma? The blood dribbled, clotted, and began to scab just like it should. I'm worried. The sun is hovering above the houses and trees now and – there's a knock at the door.

"Elena, are you up?" Three more knocks. "I've got breakfast downstairs!" Aunt Jenna cheerfully shouts through the door. My daughter instincts kick-in.

"Yeah, I'll be down in a minute!" I holler back like the tired teenager I seem to be. I grumble very realistically, as I roll out of the bed.

Okay, you are Elena Gilbert. You've got an aunt Jenna and a brother named Jeremy. You're going to go casually have breakfast, and pretend to be sleepy so you don't have to say much. I grab Elena's brush from her dresser and comb my hair. I figure that going to breakfast in pajamas is a pretty normal thing, so I go for it, making my way to the kitchen.

"Hey there sleepyhead, want some coffee?" Jenna sweetly offers, while I scoop myself into a stool at the island counter. Jeremy is next to me, doing his best impression of a homeless zombie, while hunched over a cereal bowl.

"Yes, please." I say through a yawn that I don't even have to fake. My new aunt bounces around the kitchen in a red shirt and jeans, babbling all the way as she gets me a cup of coffee. I'm careful to note which cupboard she gets the mug from, and the drawer for spoons.

So what do you think?" Jenna turns to me expectantly.

"Hmmm? I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well and zoned out. What's up?" I try to put sleepiness and sincerity into my tone of voice. I honestly am sorry, because I need as much information as I can get on what's going on here.

"Having sleep troubles again? Should we call Dr. Miller for an appointment?" The redhead's eyes stare into me, concerned, as she pushes over my coffee cup.

"Oh no, not like that. I'm okay, I just had weird dreams about like, airplanes filled with ducks and I kept waking up. Did you sleep okay?" My clear misdirect doesn't remove the concern from her eyes, but she seems to be giving me slack and takes the bait.

"Mhmm. I slept okay. Anyhow, I wanted to know if you had any plans for the day? I'm heading over to a hoity toity end of summer barbeque that the the Lockwoods are hosting," She leaned in a whispered with her hand over her mouth, like she had a secret, "Inviting all the town over at the start of an election year, hmmmm?" Raising her eyebrows, she drew away.

"Either of you kids want to come with your old aunty?" Jeremy grunted negatively in response. Judging by the barbeque, I guess it's a weekend. What would Elena do? She might go, but I won't know anyone's names.

"Ugh no thanks, I heard some rumors that Tyler Lockwood's being a real jerk. Plus, I think Bonnie wanted me over to help her Grams with the garden. I heard there might be pie," I wink with a smile. "so I guess I've got the better offer."

"No fair!" Jenna pulled a funny face with her nose scrunched, but let me leave the kitchen with my coffee without protest.

Back in the sanctuary of the bedroom, I start to search through Elena Gilbert's room looking for anything, everything. I need keys, money, a laptop. I'd like to disappear, but Elena is a minor and she'll be reported missing quickly. I need to salvage some semblance of autonomy here.

In the light, it's much easier to make my way around. I start closest to the door, systematically beginning to ravage this girl's room. We've got a girly white Victorian chair, a silver lamp, a big ol' dresser. I search the drawers. Panties, bras, jeans, and shorts, but no hidden stashes of cash or unmentionables. What kind of teenage girl do we have here? A cheerleader who just lost her parents, I guess.

The dresser top is adorned with photos and trinkets, signs of a life well-lived and well-loved. A friendship necklace hangs off the corner of a mirror, while wooden and silver frames show smiling faces looking up at me. I recognize Bonnie and Caroline in two of them, and I can work out the family photo. John and Miranda Gilbert look regal, standing on their front porch behind their two children. Miranda share's Jeremy's smile, and voluminous brunette hair. She looks like the kind of mom who bakes every week, and keeps a color-coded family schedule on her fridge. John, with his arm around her shoulders, has dark hair and the deepest brown eyes. They match the ones I see staring back at me in the mirror right now. I think, we even have the same nose too.

Suddenly, I have the urge to vomit. I'm so overwhelmed that I've stolen this girl's body, that I'm here somehow so far from my family, and I've taken this man's daughter from him. He's been taken from her too. My aunt always said that people stay alive as long as folks' keep them in their hearts. I can't help but feel that this man is just a little more gone now, and I don't even know about Elena. Did we swap places and that little girl found herself in 2017?

My white knuckles grip the edges of the dresser as I pull in deep, even breaths. I am a survivor. I can do this. Getting dropped into some other universe is not going to make me lay down and wait to die. And I especially got to get myself together, considering what a mess of a world I'm in now.

A doppleganger.

A look-alike of a seriously hated bitch. A bitch on the run from Klaus.

I exhale another breath, and look my new face right in the eye. I am not going to be used in a ritual, become vampire meat, or get fooled by some pretty boy with a century of charm. It's time to put my game face on, and get to work.


	2. Chapter 2

A.N. Hello folks! Yes, I'm updating this over a year later. I've gone through an incredible personal upheaval over the last year, but I'm starting to get my groove back, and returning to activities that bring me joy, like writing. Hope you enjoy my take on the VD world. =) Reviews are super appreciated. P.S. any tips on formatting docs for this site? It's really messing up when I upload it.

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The shrapnel of Elena's life is sprawled around me as I kneel on the ancient, creaking oak floors. A slim sage planner reveals that I've arrived in the wee hours of Saturday, August 29th 2009, and Miss Elena is scheduled to start her junior year on the 1st. She has a wallet containing 43 dollars cash, a debit card, a newly minted driver's license that tells me she turned seventeen on June 22nd, and a gift certificate to a local boutique on Main.

I've spent hours carefully searching through every possession and written page in this room. It's all depressingly what you'd expect: clothes, trinkets, cheerleading memorabilia, lacy underwear and a 3-pack of condoms hidden deep in the closet. Elena keeps her diary, a thick, brown leather book, on her bedside table with a fountain pen at the ready. Sometimes, there's a dream she's scrawled messily onto a page in the moments just after waking. I've read it cover to cover.

There's a red and green striped booklet, filled with the names and addresses of what must be every single person in this town. Most names have little check marks in varying pen colors beside them, so I guess this must be Elena's address book for Christmas and thank-you cards. I gag a little at the posh suburban sentiment. However, it's dead useful to me, and so is the old telephone book that was replacing the back leg of her dresser.

Reaching past my hoard of useful items, I grasp for my notepad. I've only got two days to get myself set up before I'm certain to meet a Salvatore, and the other one will be close behind. I quickly jot down a few reminders, before looking up the Forbes' residence in the dusty phone book.

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Cloaked as another texting teenager, I keep my head down as I navigate the neat Mystic Falls streets via google maps. It's just a ten minute walk to Caroline's house, and I rehearse my pitch in my head. I'm still nervous by the time I cross the driveway, and take in the charming home. The cream colored home sits closer to the street than the Gilbert home, and has three cozy shade trees filtering the late afternoon sun, though it lacks the stately southern front porch I've suddenly grown fond of.

Gathering all my courage, I clamber up the steps and ring the doorbell before I can stop myself. I hope this is a bell ringing home, and not one of those stupid "we have a bell, but please knock," type homes, and I should know that being Caroline's best –

Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes opens the door in her tan uniform, and socks. I'm pleased to see she looks healthy, and her blonde hair practically gleams.

"Elena, sweetie, Caroline won't be back from cheer camp until tomorrow." Liz says gently.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you if you have a minute. Can I come in?" I give a small smile, as Liz seems a little surprised, but nonetheless opens the door further.

"Come on in, would you like some tea? I've got a pitcher in the fridge and some lemonade." Walking into the home, I make a bee line for the living room, and take a seat on the couch, like I've been here a million times.

"That's okay, thank you. I thought maybe we could talk a little about my parents?"

"Of course, we haven't found out anything else in the investigation of the accident, but is there anything else I can do for you?" Liz moves to take a seat across from me and speaks earnestly, looking into my eyes, "You know you only have to ask, you're like family to Caroline and I."

Taking a deep breath, I do my best impression of an overwhelmed girl about to fess up, "Honestly, I think I might be a little in over my head right now, but I know you can help. See, I'm seventeen now and Dad left me some things as the oldest Gilbert." I purposefully hesitate, wringing my hands and swallowing.

"He left me some journals, and they say the most unbelievable things, but at the same time, I've been here my whole life. All the animal attacks and disappearances make so much sense if… if we've got an infestation. I want to help. My father was a doctor, and my mother did so much for our community, and of course we're Gilberts. I want to take my place with the founding families." Liz's color has drained from her face.

"You're awfully young to be getting involved in something so dangerous, I'm sure Grayson and Miranda would have wanted you to finish your education and go to college, and blossom before ever having to deal with all this." She looks at me imploringly, but I remain firm.

"Maybe they would, but we can never know that. What I can do is help protect Jeremy, and the rest of our town. Maybe I can't get involved in anything dangerous, but what I'd really like to do is help cultivate vervain." I say seriously, opening up my big brown eyes, and hoping that Liz falls pray to their sincerity.

"That would be alright, but we already have someone on the council to do that." I jump in like the impatient teenager I seem to be,

"But you can't have too much vervain right? I mean, you can dry it and stockpile it. The Gilbert journals say you can make vervain essential oils to soak rope, arrows, and stakes in. How could we ever have too much?" I feel like a child begging for a puppy. The Sheriff's eyes soften at my childish display.

"Of course sweetheart, we could never be too safe," Liz reaches out to touch my arm in a comforting gesture, "If this will set your mind at ease, I can have some little vervain cuttings ready for you next week. Are you going to grow them in your mother's garden?"

"No, I want to set up an indoor plant nursery in dad's old office so I can grow them year round. I should only have to stop by once a week or so to water them. What do you think?"

Liz smiles indulgently, happy to have found busy work to keep Elena away from the more dangerous, grimy aspects of the founder's council.

"That sounds perfect. Is there anything else you're worried about? The Forbes never kept journals, so I can't say what your ancestors might have written." I shake my head.

"It's fine. Dad left a few modern notes too. Can I just swing by the Salvatore house to pick up the plants myself? I want to get it settled before school so it doesn't distract me from cheer and everything." Surprise flashes across Liz's face, but she quickly offers to call ahead for me, and I'm on my way in quick order.

Trying to get acquainted, I walk through main street on my way home. The tiny shops are a mish mash of 1800's wood fronts and early 19th century brick. My hopes are dashed as none of them seem to be a hardware store, hunting, or sporting goods store. I'll need a good knife and some sort of wood to whittle into stakes if I'm going to make it in this life. There's an inviting pharmacy several lots down from my father's old medical office, which is just next to a quaint post office. I hurry toward the pharmacy, nodding and waving at anyone who shoots me a smile.

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At home, I pour my goods onto the bathroom counter. My plan to look vastly different from Katherine will have to wait. I'd like to get some vervain out of the Salvatore's house before Damen comes to town. Not knowing when that is, I've got to get my butt in gear.

My unwashed little brother is on the couch playing video games when I run down the stairs, but he doesn't even look up as I grab a couple sets of keys and head out. Poor Jeremy, he must be so depressed from losing his actual parents so young. I've got a tactical advantage over Elena in that sense. I'm not emotionally wrecked by a recent loss, searching for love and belonging.

The silver sedan in the driveway is the Gilbert's second family car, and it purrs like a kitten when I start it up. The idyllic scenes of this small town life begin to blur past my windows as I drive out of town. The sight of the thick forest coming up to the edge of the barely two lane road makes me miss my own home. Shaking my head, I rapidly blink away the pesky tears that threaten to fall. I've got a mission to complete.

The Salvatore's house is set far back from the road, and I feel no qualms parking right in front of the door in the circular driveway. Quickly hopping out, I knock and hope that Zach answers the door. My eyes are caught by the red and yellow mums in the flowerbed. They're pretty, and I wish that Zach's lady love and daughter had been able to grow up in this house and enjoy it with him.

My luck is holding, because Zach opens the door.

"You must be Elena Gilbert, right?" He gestures me inside with his arm. He's got the dirtiest of blonde hair, and hazel eyes. I suppose he takes more after Stephen's coloring.

"Hi, yes, thank you. I've heard about the important work that you do, and I'd love to help the cause." I give an earnest smile and pray that this is over quickly. My luck from earlier is apparently up, as I'm treated to a cup of sweet iced tea and small talk about the history of their home and its architectural features. Apparently, he's not only a green thumb but also a handy man. Zach describes his recent restoration of the stair bannisters in excruciating detail. Once I've endured the pleasantries, he bids me to wait in the sitting room while he fetches the plants.

I wait a beat after he disappears downstairs. Then, I can't help but snoop. Looking around the room for signs that his nephews are back in town, I spot a brown suede, fur lined jacket hanging on a chair back that probably belongs to Stephen. No sign of Damen. There are, however, about a million books in tall built ins along the walls. Most have weathered leather spines without a title, but I spot a slim canvas covered book in a far corner. _Herbs and Medicinal Plants of Virginia._ Snatching it up, I thumb through for a mention of vervain.

"Hem hem," Zach clears his throat and I whirl around, shocked. He's quiet as a mouse for such a tall, broad shouldered man.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I just love to read and couldn't help but notice this plant book. Would this have any good tips about the special gardening you do?" I hold the book up for his notice.

He nods.

"That it would, Miss Gilbert. There's a good cultivation section you should see. In fact, uh… You might go on and take that home with you. I'd appreciate if you'd look after it and keep it safe. Hard to find those books nowadays." Looks like Zach's trying to get his rare vervain books out of his house in case Stephen goes snooping and destroys the 'dangerous' information.

"Thank you so much Mr. Salvatore! I can't tell you how much all this means to me." Like a good southern gentleman, Zach loads up my trunk for me, and wishes me a good evening. I take off like a bat out of hell, anxious to get my errands done by sundown.

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Google maps hooks me up with the location of a home improvement and garden center about 45 minutes away. To my delight, there's a Walmart next door. In the span of a couple hours, I've gotten most of the gear I'd like. I've bought UV lights, planters, and fertilizer for my vervain. The man in the lumber department looked at me like I was crazy, but cut down 1" by 1" wood into 8" lengths for me. I bought ten lengths to whittle into stakes.

Then, I went on a serial killer shopping spree in the hunting and camping section of Walmart. A 5" tactical knife, 3.5" pocket knife, 20 ft rope, gas can, matches, lighter, and four pack of walkie talkies went into my trunk. I didn't yet have a plan for the walkie talkies, but I thought Caroline, Bonnie, and I might need them in a tight spot.

As for the arson equipment, I honestly couldn't remember what happened to vampires in the vampire diaries upon death. I remember that in Buffy they dust, and in Trueblood they end up a pile of blood mush, but I think in Vampire Diaries that vampires end up as corpses. I might need to burn a vampire corpse or evidence at some point, so it's always good to feel prepared.

Unloading my goodies into the basement of my dad's medical office through the back door at dusk feels pretty off brand for a cheerleader. The dark basement has sturdy metal stairs, all concrete walls, and some leftover torture equipment. I swear, if any of this furniture was covered in sheets, I would be out of here for sure. I would have to call the scooby gang to get rid of the ghosts. It's a little better with the lights on.

I push the medical exam chair/torture restraint chair up against the wall and pile all the random boxes and equipment underneath. I need the stainless steel work benches free for my vervain plants. I rig up all the UV lights, settle Zach's gifts into the planters, and give them a touch of miracle grow. I leave the vervain book down here, since I don't want Jeremy to stumble upon it.

Giving a twirl and surveying my work, I'm pleased to see that my home base is ready. Breaking out into laughter, I'm either acting out the part of the villain in his lair, or I've lost my goddamned mind. I think this universe is really getting to me. The idea of being in a place with mind-controlling, herculean people who can eat me, and snap my neck at the drop of a hat is really getting to me.


End file.
